Grave Attraction (20 page)

She nodded, her head tilted downward, her hair covering her face. “That. Feels. So. Good.” The way she dragged out every word made his balls tighten.

He moved his hand from her breast to between her legs, touching the place where they were joined before stroking her swollen clit.

She moaned, her back arching against his chest.

“Like that, eh?”

Another moan was her only reply, so he kept at it, rubbing small circles as he began to move his hips. Careful not to hurt her, he used slow, short strokes, making note of her every response.

“Adam?”

He froze. “What's wrong, kitten? Are you okay?”

“I'm fine. But you need to stop treating me like I'm made of glass.”

He grinned, grazed his teeth against her neck. “Are you sure that's what you want?”

She reached a hand down between his legs and cupped his balls. “What do you think?”

Fine by him. Slow and gentle was driving him nuts. To test her threshold, he pulled halfway out and thrust back into her. Hard.

She groaned. Ground against him. “Oh, yeah. Like that, only harder.”

If she wanted hard, who was he to say no? Still rubbing her clit, he increased the force of his strokes, pumping harder, faster, until sweat slicked both of their bodies. Already, he felt the tension building inside her, her telltale whimpers letting him know that she was close to finding release.

No, not yet. Not like this. He wanted to look into her eyes while she came, wanted to see if it affected her as much as it affected him.

When he pulled out of her and turned her onto her back, she let out a frustrated sound.

“Don't worry,” he said. “I'm not even close to being finished with you.”

Adam hooked her knees over his elbows, and the noise she made when he drove in deep sounded somewhere between a sigh and a moan. Her eyes drifted shut and her mouth dropped open as she grabbed on to his shoulders. Two thrusts to adjust, and then he picked up the rhythm, the pleasure so intense it bordered on pain.

“Look at me,” he growled, his voice sounding strange to his own ears. “I want you to look at me while I fuck you. And when you come, I want to hear you say my name.”

Marlena's glassy eyes opened, filled with so much lust and emotion he almost lost it right on the spot. Those short little nails dug deeper into his shoulders, the nips of pain taking the pleasure to a higher level. He surged into her, harder, faster, the pressure building in his balls as he barreled toward the inevitable orgasm. Gritting his teeth, he forced back the urge to come inside her. Soon, but not quite yet. He could feel her inner walls beginning to clench, her back arching up toward him.

Wanting—no, needing to watch her come, he tangled his fingers in her hair, forcing her gaze to meet his. “Come for me, kitten,” he said as he ground against her clit. “Now.”

With her eyes wide and her mouth slacked into an openmouthed O, her inner walls convulsed around his cock, squeezing him while she climaxed. A guttural sound tore from her throat, the noise soft and low at first but then turning into a high-pitched whimper. Then it came—the sound of his name on her lips, chanted over and over like a prayer.

Sweating, panting, he pounded into her until her entire body shook with pleasure. He could feel the surge building in his shaft, the sensation growing stronger and stronger until he couldn't hold back any longer. He was lost in lust. Lost in passion. Lost in the wonders of her. He loved that moment of losing control, riding the waves of earth-shattering bliss as they crashed over him again and again. All the while, his unblinking gaze never left hers, his hips not slowing until he'd wrung out every last exquisite drop of pleasure.

He kissed her then, long and slow, savoring the intoxicating taste of her. Already, he wanted to cherish and ravish her again, but he needed to catch his breath first. He rolled over, pulling her on top, relishing the feel of her sweat-slicked body on top of his.

“That was ... wow.” A satisfied smile curved her lush lips as she brushed his hair back from his face. “Do you think we can, you know, maybe later?”

Like she actually had to ask. He stroked a hand down the length of her spine and cupped her sweet, juicy ass. “How about now?”

“But I thought guys needed a little ... well ... recovery time.” She looked so fucking adorable when she blushed, he couldn't help but grin.

“Trust me, babe. There's no need to wait.” He trailed a finger along the crease of her backside and she gasped when he reached her sex. “Fast recovery time. It's the best part about being a reaper.”

 

The last thing Adam wanted to do was move, not with Marlena curled against his side, all warm and soft and sexy as hell. He stared down at her, amazed at how the sight of her made his heart stutter. Already, he'd taken her several times, and his cock thickened at the thought of plunging into her wet heat again. But his connection to her ran deeper than lust, and the emotional entanglement had taken him completely by surprise.

Not that he was complaining. Sometimes, life just handed you a gift, and he had no intention of turning his back on such an unexpected treasure.

He skimmed a hand along the curve of her hip, and she made a low purring sound in her sleep and snuggled closer. If he had his way, he'd stay like this forever. He didn't want to sleep. Didn't want to move. But duty called, and like it or not, he needed to get back to work.

Careful not to disturb her, he slipped out of bed and tiptoed into the living room. His clothes sat in a pile a few feet from the couch. He scooped up his jeans and retrieved his phone from the back pocket. The only message was a text from Gwen:
Call me.

Well, now wasn't that cryptic? The lack of details left him with a sense of unease. With his luck, it probably meant Cassie's potion hadn't worked and he'd be stuck with Samuel for a while longer. Hoping for the best but expecting the worst, he dialed Gwen's number.

“Please don't give me bad news,” Adam said when she picked up, keeping his voice low to avoid waking Marlena.

“I don't know about you, but it's great news for us.” Gwen sounded like she'd just won the lottery. “Samuel's flown the coop.”

No way. After having the boss at his house for so long, it sounded too good to be true. “Care to expand on that for me?”

“Gone. Split. Adios, baby. Cassandra's potion must have worked its magic, because he said his memory and powers were back and he had things that
required his attention
.” The last few words she spoke in an impression of Samuel's snooty British accent.

No wonder she sounded so happy. “That's great news. Thanks for all your help.”

“You're welcome. You can pay us back by babysitting some time.”

“Excuse me?” It took a second or two for the dots to connect in his brain. “Are you saying what I think you're saying?”

“You got it, Uncle Adam. Dmitri's going to be a daddy.”

Adam's face split into a huge grin. After everything those two had gone through, it was great to see them so happy. And now they were going to start a family. For the life of him, he couldn't imagine Dmitri changing diapers, but stranger things had been known to happen.

“Congratulations! I'd love to babysit the little rug rat. Do you know if it's a boy or a girl?”

“Not yet. It's early, and we're still deciding if we want to know ahead of time.”

“Well, when you find out, let me know, and I'll start shopping for noisy, messy toys.”

“Don't you dare!” she said with a laugh. “Remember, we know where you live.”

“All right, I'll behave.” For now. After the kid was born, all bets were off. “Are you guys heading home now?”

“Yeah. I fed Buford a couple hours ago. Do you want me to walk him before we go?”

“If you could, I'd really appreciate it.”

“No problem. You need anything else, just give us a call.”

As soon as he disconnected, he pulled up his calendar. He'd already completed his reaps for the day, and his next wasn't scheduled until late the following morning. And with Buford already fed and walked, he didn't need to go home for a while longer.

He smiled as he switched off the phone. With Samuel's powers restored and Gwen expecting a baby, things seemed to be working out for everyone. And now that he didn't need to leave so soon, he planned on making the most of his good fortune with Marlena. A few ideas sprang to mind as he dropped his phone on top of his jeans and started toward the bedroom.

A
dam sat in the cab of his parked pickup, a yawn stretching his mouth.

The air conditioner still wasn't working, which meant the truck was hotter than a sauna and his clothes were plastered to his skin. The streets of downtown Orlando were quiet that afternoon, with a scattering of people using the sidewalks and a light stream of traffic on the roads. In another couple hours, it would be a completely different story when thousands of workers left their jobs and headed for home. By then he'd be long gone after harvesting the soul of his two thirty termination.

He yawned again as he checked his watch. Eight minutes until the time of death. The pulse of mortality vibrated in the air, growing stronger as the moment drew closer. He only hoped he wouldn't fall asleep before then.

He'd barely slept the night before. It had just about killed him to leave Marlena's bed, but he had to get back to his house before Buford chewed a hole through the door. By the time he got home it was almost midnight, and he didn't fall asleep until quarter to two. His body had still burned with the need for Marlena, and every time he'd been about to drift off, another memory from another lifetime flashed through his mind and jarred him wide awake.

“Fucking potion,” he grumbled as he shifted in his seat. If he hadn't been so damn impulsive, he wouldn't be in this situation. Of the eighteen lifetimes that Samuel had told him about, he recalled bits and pieces from eleven. Odds were, he'd eventually remember them all, and he wasn't really looking forward to it.

It wouldn't be so bad if there were some kind of rhyme or reason to the order of the flashbacks. But instead they came to him at random, leaving him to figure out which of his lifetimes they originated from. One minute he'd remember working the tobacco fields of Virginia, and the next he relived the way it felt when he was dying from tuberculosis at age eight. But in truth, the only memories he gave a damn about were from his past life with Marlena. He wanted to know about everything they shared, from the time he first laid eyes on her to their last minutes together on the pyre.

One of those memories popped into his mind, and it had him reaching for his phone.

“Hey there,” Marlena said when she answered. The warmth in her voice grabbed his heart and squeezed tight. “How are you doing?”

“I'm still trying to wrap my brain around all this.” The recollection crystallized in his mind, so clear it was like it had just happened. The heat of the fire. The sweat soaking his clothes. The sound of metal striking metal. “Christopher made your ring, didn't he?”

It shouldn't surprise him. After all, the man had been a blacksmith by trade. And he'd shown his devotion to his new bride by fashioning the delicate gold band she'd worn for the past four hundred years.

Marlena didn't answer at first, but when she did, her tone carried a note of resolve. “Yes, he did.”

“Why do you wear it on your right hand?”

“It was the custom at the time.”

And she'd worn it ever since. The knowledge touched him and made him insanely jealous, which royally screwed with his head.

“You weren't wearing it when I first saw you at Brentwood's house.”

“I didn't have it on when I was taken.” Anger bled into her words, as if she was remembering those days in the cage. “It slipped off once when I was at the gym, so now I leave it at home when I exercise.”

“Are you wearing it now?”

“Of course.”

Another round of conflicting emotions rolled through him. It was irrational and completely unreasonable, but he couldn't help the way he felt. It struck him then, with a bit of surprise, that he wanted his own ring on her finger. A tangible reminder for all to see that she belonged to him. “I want to see you tonight.”

“I'm having dinner with Cassie.”

“Okay, how about after dinner? I don't have anything scheduled until midnight.” Then he'd have to be out by Disney World, collecting the soul of his twelve thirty-eight appointment.

“I don't know—”

“What's not to know?”

“Well . . .” Her voice trailed off. “I thought if you came over, you'd be staying the night.”

Half the blood in his body shot straight to his groin. “Is that an invitation?” If it was, he'd move heaven and earth to clear his calendar for the entire evening. Call in favors, bribery, blackmail. Hell, he wasn't above begging if it got him into Marlena's bed for the night.

He could almost hear her smile when she said, “If it was, what would you say?”

“I'd ask if I could bring my dog.” With Samuel gone, there wasn't anyone around to let Buford out to do his business. The last time Adam left him alone in the house overnight, the big mutt had eaten one of his shoes and barfed it up on the couch.

Marlena didn't say anything for a second or two. “I didn't know you owned a dog. What kind?”

“Pit bull, but don't let the bad reputation fool you. He looks ornery, but he's really a softie.” The big goofball had been moping around ever since Samuel left. He'd pulled one of the boss's dirty shirts from the laundry basket and was using it as a pillow.

“Is he housebroken?” she asked.

“Of course. Just make sure to keep the bathroom door closed because he likes to eat toilet paper.”

He smiled when he heard her laugh.

Outside, the pulse of mortality grew stronger. It called to Adam like a Siren's song, buzzing in his blood like a live wire. Soon, death would claim another victim, and he'd be there to clean up the mess. But before hanging up, he wanted to wring an invitation out of Marlena.

“What do you say, kitten? Should I bring my toothbrush?”

“I thought you had to work late tonight.”

“I'll switch with someone.” Anyone. “Yes or no?”

She made a soft humming sound as if mulling the question over. “I guess,” she finally said, and a burst of heat shot through his body. “When should I expect you?”

“I don't know yet. Let me make a few calls to clear my calendar and I'll let you know.” Outside, the pulse of mortality spiked. Someone had just triggered the chain of events leading up to that afternoon's termination. Adam's eyes tracked it to the source and saw a young guy on a bicycle zipping down Orange Avenue. The traffic light at the intersection turned yellow, but the cyclist showed no signs of slowing. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out how this was going to play out. Adam wrapped his fingers around the door handle as the call of death reached a crescendo.

“Oh, and Marlena?”

“Yes?”

A horn blared and tires screeched as the cyclist met his unfortunate demise.

“You might want to take a nap this afternoon, because I don't plan on letting you sleep tonight.”

 

An hour later, Marlena received a text from Adam:
Be there at eight. Wear something you don't mind getting ripped.

Her heart thudded against her ribcage. She took the nap he suggested, along with a B vitamin, and when he knocked on her door a couple minutes before eight, she greeted him wearing a pair of high heels and a red satin robe she'd picked up on her way home from dinner.

“Mmm, I love it,” he said, right before claiming her lips in a scorching kiss. “I can't wait for you to take it off.”

The feel of something cold and wet touching her leg made her jump. She looked down, taking in the sight of the biggest pit bull she'd ever seen in her life. The dog seemed friendly enough, with his stub of a tail wagging so fast it was a blur.

“That's Buford,” Adam said as he closed and locked the door. He opened the bag he'd been carrying and pulled out a huge rawhide bone. The dog let out a gravelly woof, his big body shaking with anticipation. “Okay, boy, here you go.” Adam gave him the bone, and the dog plopped down on the living room carpet with his treat.

“And here I thought you had something for me in the bag,” Marlena teased.

“Don't worry, I've got something for you too.” The smile he flashed was pure sin. His fingers tugged the sash on her robe, and then the scrap of satin fell to the floor.

“Leave the heels on,” he said when she started to toe them off. His gaze burned over the length of her naked body, and the unspoken hunger on his face made her feel wanton and sensual.

Passion coiled inside her when he kissed her again, longer, hotter, deeper, and endlessly tender. A sweep of her tongue and he growled against her mouth, the subtle vibration sending a wave of heat straight to her core.

But what she felt for him ran deeper than attraction and even deeper than the mate bond. He stirred her heart as well as her blood, and she doubted she'd ever get enough of him.

“Tell me,” he said as he palmed her left breast, “in your mind, how do you see tonight playing out? Nice and slow, or are you making me sweat for it?”

Both options sounded great to her, but if she had to make a choice... “Nice and slow.”

He grinned. “Okay, we'll do it your way. But the next time I'm going to fuck you until you're a screaming, sticky, hot mess.”

True to his word, he led her to the bedroom and laid her on the bed, worshipping every square inch of her body until her insides started to burn. He kissed a path down her torso, not stopping until his hair and his stubble rubbed the insides of her thighs.

Eyes closed, she reveled at the feel of Adam's hands on her hips and his mouth hard at work between her legs. It felt like his tongue was everywhere at once, licking, sucking, swirling around her clit in a way that set every nerve on fire.

“A little to the left,” she murmured, her breath catching when he flicked his tongue over a really good spot. The effect wasn't lost on Adam. Relentless, he focused on the sensitive area, not stopping until the orgasm sent waves of euphoria rippling through her.

God, she'd forgotten how good that felt. She knew how to give herself physical release, but it didn't have the emotional punch that only came with an attentive partner. And not just any partner. Adam. The mate bond thrummed in her veins and pulsed through her body, drowning out the sounds and the feel of everything but him.

“Hmm, that was nice.” She felt boneless as he kissed his way up her body.

He paused at her hip and shot her an incredulous look. “Nice? You call that nice?”

Try as she might, she couldn't stop from laughing. “If I lavish you with praise this early on, you'll just end up getting a swelled head.”

“Oh really? I'll give you something swelled.” Without any warning, he tickled her ribs, and she squealed as she tried to scramble away. In a matter of seconds, he pinned her arms above her head, the length of his body pressed against hers. Of course, she could have broken free if she wanted, but why should she spoil the fun?

With his knee, he nudged her legs apart and entered her with one deep thrust. She gasped at the sudden invasion and then sighed when his hips began to move. Slowly at first, but then he picked up the pace, beads of sweat forming along his brow as he drove them both to oblivion.

She had no control of the pace, no control over her own body as the next orgasm washed over her more powerfully than the first. As her climax subsided, she felt his body stiffen. He let out a groan, his face a portrait of exquisite agony as he gave himself to the pleasure. Warm air gusted over her neck as he struggled to catch his breath. Then he brushed his lips against her jaw, her cheek, the corner of her lips, before taking her mouth in a soul-deep kiss.

“Better than nice?” he asked as he rolled to the side, a satisfied smile on his face.

“Definitely.” Sated and sleepy, she curled up against him, her palm resting over his racing heart.

“Making you come is so much fun.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I love the way your toes curl when I'm doing something you really like.”

“My toes curl?”

“Mmm-hmm. And you squirm.”

She huffed. “I do not squirm.”

“Yes, you do.” He chuckled. “Like a worm on a hook.”

“I'm not sure if I like this analogy.”

“If it makes you feel better, you're the cutest worm I've ever seen.”

Her gaze flicked up to meet his. “So if I'm a worm . . .” Her hand slid low, and he sucked in a breath when she wrapped her fingers around him. “Is this the hook?”

“Could be,” he choked out.

Energized, she propped herself up on one elbow and looked down at him while she stroked. His eyes were closed, his lips parted, his chest rising and falling with each labored breath. His long, lean muscles grew taut with tension, like a jungle cat preparing to strike. It pleased her to know she affected him this way, that she could return some of the pleasure he'd already given her.

With her focus so riveted on Adam, she almost didn't hear the sound of her phone ringing in the other room. When she finally did, her eyes tracked toward the sound.

“Don't answer that,” he murmured.

“I have to. It's Cassie's ringtone.”

Her daughter never called this late unless it was for something important. Marlena slipped out of bed and padded naked to the living room, where Buford was still hard at work on his bone. He paid her no mind while she retrieved her phone from the coffee table and accepted the call.

“Hey, sweetie, what's up?” she asked as she walked back into the bedroom.

“Where are you?” The question seemed harmless enough, but the strain in Cassie's words set warning bells off inside Marlena's head.

“I'm at my apartment with Adam.” Cradling the phone between her ear and her shoulder, she slipped on a pair of panties and reached for her jeans. Adam must have picked up on her growing alarm, because he scooped up his clothes and started getting dressed. “Why, what's wrong, sweetheart?”